


A Saiyan Carol

by Midnight Wolf (Larkawolfgirl)



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, F/M, Family, Ghosts, Gift Fic, Humor, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Memories, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, The Meaning of Christmas, Visions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Midnight%20Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vegeta is visited by three ghosts who take him through visions of his past, present, and the future. Can he learn the true meaning of Christmas, escape his awaited fate in hell, and most importantly make up with his family?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Saiyan Carol

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NinjaWhisper](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=NinjaWhisper).



> First off, this is a Christmas present to my lovely sister and best friend NinjaWhisper. I tried to write something that she would enjoy, which obviously had to focus on Vegeta. 
> 
> I ran into a bit of confusion when I looked up the age different between Trunks and Bra. I get confused easily considering how much time passes during DBZ, but I had thought that during the last tournament at the end of the anime that Trunks was about 17, but the wiki says that he was either 12 or 14 (since there are two sources) when Bra was born. If that is so, and I wanted her to be about 7 in this story, then Trunks would be 19 or 21 and probably in college. So, I’m just saying that he is commuting to college from home. 
> 
> Also, I hope that it doesn’t seem odd that Vegeta would not understand the meaning of Christmas after living on Earth for so many years. In all honesty I think that he would have caught on before now, but it had to be set after Buu, and I wanted Bra to be in it.

“Look Daddy do you see this doll?” Bra asked while pointing at the tiny doll wearing a pink ball gown in the magazine. “It would be great if Santa brought it for me for Christmas.” She smiled sweetly, as if she were the nicest child in the world.

Vegeta merely humphed. Even though he had been living on Earth for quite a few years now he still couldn’t understand the importance of this thing called Christmas. All it amounted to was people selfishly asking each other for presents. While he had bought a few gifts under Bulma’s order the idea seemed ludicrous to him. If everyone was just greedy why didn’t they just buy themselves what they wanted instead of forcing others to buy it for them? If that wasn’t confusing enough there was this red-clad man named Santa who lived in the North Pole and delivered presents to all the good children. Ridiculous.

Bra took no notice of her father’s reaction. She was used to his less than enthusiastic perception of Christmas. (Of course he wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about anything, except for sex and training). She had gone back to looking through the magazine when Trunks burst in.

“Hey squirt,” he said. Bra perked up. Trunks understood her love of Christmas. He loved to brag to his friends about all the presents he got every year.

“Onii-san look at this!” she said pushing the earlier mentioned picture in his face. “Isn’t she adorable? Do you think Santa will bring me one?”

“Santa?” Trunks laughed. “Dad, how long are we going to keep her in the dark, huh?”

“What are you talking about Trunks?” She looked up at him with innocent, questioning eyes.

Vegeta’s own twitched. He knew exactly where this was going. Bulma had insisted that he let Bra have her fun, but she was already seven. He would be damned to let the girl be this naïve. Besides, wouldn’t Trunks be the one to get in trouble not him?

Trunks waited a few seconds to see if Vegeta would answer. When he didn’t Trunks decided that it must be a go-ahead. “Santa isn’t real, numbnut.”

“What do you mean he isn’t real? But Mommy said-“

“All parents say that. It’s to make sure you behave yourself.”

“Mommy wouldn’t do that. Right Daddy?” A vein in Vegeta’s temple throbbed. Hell. He hated it when she gave him those eyes. She was his princess, and he didn’t want to see her cry, but she was a Saiyan. Saiyans do not believe in Santa Claus.

“Do you really think a human man can live in that blasted weather and deliver presents to the entire world in one night?”

“But-“

“Face it, Bra. It is impossible.” Then the tears came. The tears he knew would come. What was the big deal? It was just some pretend fat dude who gave out presents, big deal.

“Your mother and I will still give you presents you know.”

“What? You…and Mommy?” Her eyes filled even more and she took off into her bedroom.

“Well, that could have gone better, but she’ll get over it.” Trunks shrugged opening the fridge in search of something to eat. While Vegeta knew this he couldn’t shake the unpleasant feeling that had settled into his lower stomach.

Bulma was furious when she learned about what had happened. Even though Vegeta complained that Trunks had started it, she didn’t seem to care.

“It doesn’t matter what Trunks said. You are supposed to lie and assure her that Santa is real. God, why can’t you just let her enjoy being a kid?”

“What does the big fat guy have to do with being a kid? I didn’t grow up being fed lies about such crazy things and I turned out fine.”

“I beg to differ.” Bulma groaned loudly, flopping down on the sofa. “What do I say to her now?”

“Mom, you’re worrying way too much. She’ll be fine.”

“Now that I think about it, when did you stop believing in Santa?”

Trunks smiled cheekily. “I never believed in him.  I was smart enough to know that he couldn’t exist.”

“Really? I seem to recall you pleading to go to bed early just to make sure that you were asleep by the time he came.”

Trunks averted his eyes with a slight blush. “I just wanted to make you think I believed in him. You know, didn’t want to pop your bubble.”

“Haha, sure,” Bulma said flatly crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back into a pose of authority. “Whatever. Just promise me not to do something like this again. Try to think about your sister’s feelings.”

“Fine,” Trunks said lowering his head.

“As for you, Vegeta.” She paused before shaking her head. “I’d tell you to lie in the future, but I know that won’t happen. Just make up with her somehow, okay?”

Bulma had headed to a late meeting, Trunks had a late class to attend, and Bra hadn’t left her room since their scuffle earlier, which left Vegeta alone. He was sitting on the couch flipping through mindless television sitcoms when the telephone rang. Upon instinct he yelled, “Bulma the phone!” before remembering that he was alone, save for one shut-in little girl. ‘Okay, I’ll just ignore it,’ he thought. They did have an answering machine. After five agonizingly slow rings the machine turned on.

_Hi, Bulma? It’s Chichi. I was wondering if it would be alright if we joined you for Christmas this year. We’re kind of held up on money more than usual. Gohan has a bit, but I can’t ask him to pay for everything. We can manage, but we’ve been stuck eating whatever Goku has been able to scavenge from ice fishing. That wouldn’t exactly make a special Christmas dinner. Plus, it would be nice to see you guys, even Vegeta-_

“What do you mean ‘even Vegeta’?” he scowled picking up the phone.

“Oh, uh, hi Vegeta. I just meant that you-”

“I don’t much like you either. You said that you can manage so why are you asking us for free handouts? You humans and your greedy Christmas. Just accept your frozen fish and move on.” He promptly hung up the phone. Yet again he was struck with an unpleasant feeling. There was nothing uncalled for in what he did. The woman clearly didn’t desire his company any more than he did. Besides, she was asking for things like everyone else. This Christmas sure brought out people’s inner beggars. 

As if summoned by his thoughts beggars did appear. They called themselves Toys for Tots representatives, but to Vegeta it was the same thing.

“We’re collecting money or direct toy donations to help needy children. It is our mission that no child go without toys on Christmas.” Vegeta had had it. What was up with this holiday?

“I don’t have any intention of donating. Now beat it.” The men started at each other in shock as the prince let the door swing shut.

There it was again, that sinking feeling. Was he getting sick? Yeah, maybe that was it (even though he knew that it was highly unlikely given that as a Saiyan he had never gotten sick before). He would lie down and he would feel better in the morning.

He had entered the bedroom and begun undressing when he heard an annoying voice that he would never forget. The voice had been etched into his memory with sandpaper scrapes.

“Hey there Vegeta!”

“What the hell?” A very much intact Nappa appeared before him. If it weren’t for the halo floating above his head, Vegeta would have questioned his sanity. “Aren’t you supposed to be in hell?”

“I was, well technically I still am.” Nappa gestured to a thin red string that trailed out of sight. Vegeta assumed that it probably attached to an anchor in hell to ensure that he didn’t try to make a break for it. “I’ve come here to warn you, Vegeta. If you aren’t careful then you will turn out like me, and let me tell you it isn’t fun.”

“Let me guess, you play shuffleboard and watch horrible soap operas all day?”

“What are soap operas? Nevermind, I’m serious. When you sacrificed yourself you racked up quite a few good points, but lately you’ve been racking up some bad ones as well.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m a changed man. I have a family now if you haven’t noticed. In what way have I been doing anything bad enough to be sent to hell?”

“Well, you still have all your points from before you changed. And as what you’re doing, you’ve been killing the Christmas spirit.”

“Christmas spirit?” Vegeta laughed. It was just too funny. Now even his old evil comrade was falling for the stupid holiday. “You have to be joking.”

“You still have time before Christmas to revive it. You will be visited by three ghosts who will teach you the wrong of your ways. Heed their lessons and you will be saved from my fate. Well, my job’s done. See you in hell or not, your choice.” The red string tightened and Nappa zoomed out of sight pulled along by it.

Vegeta scratched his head in thought. Could that really be true? Of course not. Why the hell would Nappa of all people come visit him from hell just to tell him that he needed to gain the Christmas spirit? It sounded way too ridiculous. Deciding to just forget the incident, he settled into bed. He turned restlessly until he heard a rustle coming from the window. Looking he saw the curtains blowing from incoming wind. Hadn’t the window been closed?

He got up to shut it when he sensed an intruding ki and a hand fell upon his shoulder. There standing beside him was a solemn faced Namekian.

“What the hell are doing in my house?”

“I am the ghost of your Past. I have come to remind you of your growth.”

“Like hell I’m being led by an ugly green amphibian.” 

“I am not any happier about this than you are. Do you think I enjoy helping the murderer of so many of my kind? But this is the role that Yemma has given me and I must fulfill it.”

The Namekian waved his hand in a semi-circle motion which sent ripples through Vegeta’s vision. The dark bedroom transformed into a similarly dark bedroom. While the room itself struck nostalgia within him, the most endearing was the scene taking place. King Vegeta knelt next to the bed upon which lay a young Vegeta.

“Happy Birthday, son. Always remember that you make me proud.” The king who was usually adverse to signs of physical affection graced his son with a stroke on the head. The small Vegeta closed his eyes in silent pleasure. Vegeta approached his father. He reached out but his hand passed completely through his father’s arm.

“Don’t bother. These are merely your stored memories. They are not real,” the Namekian explained in monotone.

King Vegeta continued, “But also remember that with each year you also become more of an adult, and with that you must act more and more like one. I know you won’t let me down, though.” He smiled gently before leaving the room. Vegeta’s heart clenched. Though he would never admit it to anyone, he missed his father greatly.

“Time to move on,” the Namekian said waving his arm yet again. The bedroom faded away into a metal framed training room. A young teen Vegeta stood with his arms crossed glaring down an annoyed-looking Frieza.

“I will tell you one more time, perform 50 aerial laps now,” the pink alien ordered sternly.

“I have no reason to listen to you. I am a prince,” the teen answered haughtily.

Frieza ignored the comment. “Or else I will kill your father.”

The past Vegeta’s mouth gaped. “But…no. You never could. My dad is too strong.”

“If you really think that then I guess you won’t mind me testing the theory right now.”

“No!” Prince Vegeta called. “I’ll, uh, listen to you. But don’t think that it’s because I’m scared of you or anything.”

Vegeta remembered his constant anxiety during those long years when Frieza would periodically play that trump card. His father had been the only person he truly cared about at the time, so he reluctantly followed all of the orders. Yet, Frieza had still mercilessly killed his father. All of his past hate and anger resurfaced, bubbling up within him. Yelling, he released the emotions in multiple colored blasts which easily passed through the phantom tyrant. This only angered Vegeta further, thus he released even more blasts. Finally, once his stamina drained he lowered his arms.

The Namekian had remained silent watching in little interest. “Are you ready to move on?” he asked. Vegeta nodded slowly.

The scenery shifted again, this time to a beautiful Capsule Corp. decorated with Christmas garland and lights. A tall tree stood in almost every room, but the one in the living room had been decorated by Bulma herself, for she said that one was special; it was the family tree. While Vegeta hadn’t seen himself as family in any way she had insisted that he hang at least one ornament and that he have a spot under it for presents. Vegeta watched as his old self placed a chubby dangling Santa upon the tree with a grunt.

“Happy now, Woman?” He scowled.

“You act like it’s torture.” The past Bulma’s laughter was that of light bells. Her face glowed in a bright shine. He hadn’t paid any attention at the time, but now he could tell that she had already loved him deeply.

Their past selves settled on the couch to look at the finished masterpiece. She soon placed her head upon his shoulder. His past self stiffened but didn’t otherwise object.

“Vegeta, I need to tell you something,” she all but whispered. There was a hint of worry in her eyes, but the past Vegeta didn’t even give her a glance.

“Well, spit it out.”

She took a few deep breaths preparing herself, before releasing in a single breath, “I’m pregnant!”

Vegeta watched as his jaw tightened. His arm muscles flexed as if restraining the desire to attack something. When he didn’t answer she continued. “Well, say something.”

“So what? It has nothing to do with me.”

“What the hell do you mean, has nothing to do with you? Who do you think got me pregnant?”

“I never once heard you complain.”

“You are going to be a father.”

“No. You are going to be a mother. I promised you nothing.” He turned and walked straight out the door without glancing back. Bulma crumpled onto the floor clutching her stomach as if the baby inside her could give her comfort. Tears came to her eyes and with them came oddly-timed shudders. The flashing Christmas lights made the scene seem surreal.

Vegeta couldn’t deny the tightening of his insides at the scene. He had caused this. He had hurt her badly that night. He remembered disappearing for a month after that night to train on a distant planet. At the time he hadn’t worried about anything rather than beating Goku, eating, and having the occasional good fuck. Now he could see how insensitive he had been. Bulma had been a scared mother, longing for support from the man she loved, but all Vegeta had done was leave her to shoulder the entire burden.

“Time to go back”, the Namekian said and the image of the crying Bulma shredded into tiny fragments before dissolving entirely into the image of their empty bedroom. With clenched fists Vegeta turned around to face the Namekian.

“Take me back,” he ordered, but the Namekian was nowhere to be seen. As much as he wished that he could change the past he knew that he never could. Thinking back on the past he remembered the devastation that he had afflicted on the Namekians. It was then that he realized why he had been the one to guide him. He was meant to regret his past was he? Well, he still didn’t regret it. There wouldn’t even a point in doing so. The only thing that he could change was the present, he knew that. Huffing he expelled all thoughts of Namek. They didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was his family.  

Settled on this, he began to climb back into bed, but a voice spoke up before he could do so.

“I am here to show you the present,” spoke a voice that sounded oddly familiar, but Vegeta couldn’t pinpoint it. Turning he made out the face of Android 16 through the darkness.

His presence confused Vegeta even more than the Namekian had at first. Why had Yemma chosen him? Vegeta didn’t care one bit about this hunk of metal.

“Fine,” he said crossing his arms. Android 16 waved his arm and the air rippled as the humble Son family lodging appeared.

Chichi sat alone in the small combined dining room and kitchen staring at a package of wooden pencils. On the dining table lay two other small wrapped packages and a single pack of Poppin’ Magical Creatures playing cards. She set the pencils down and walked to a drawer out of which she pulled out some crinkled wrapping paper. She flattened the bright red and green paper as best she could, but the creases were still easily noticeable. She sighed returning to her seat at the table. As she began to cut the paper into two halves the door opened and Gohan walked in.

“Hi Mom. Want help?”

“That would be wonderful.” Together they wrapped the remaining two presents with slow, lethargic fingers. When the wrapping was done Chichi stared at them for a while saying nothing. Then tears slowly formed in her eyes. Gohan reached out taking her shoulder in hand.

“Aw, what’s wrong Mom?”

“I just wish that I could give you a better Christmas. That I could have always given you a better Christmas.” He took her into a hug.

“It’s okay. We understand. Plus, I keep telling you that Videl and I can help out.”

“That’s so sweet of you, but I can’t ask you to do that. You have to take care of Videl and Pan. We will manage, we always do.” Goku chose that moment to teleport in.

“Chichi I’m home!” He called cheerfully before noticing the awkward scene. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said wiping the tears away. Vegeta had expected her to blow up at him. It was the idiot’s fault that they were so poor. She had every right to yell at him until her voice was sore, yet she embraced him gently instead.  

Vegeta had never cared much for the harpy, but seeing her now he felt bad for her. It wasn’t her fault that they lived this way. He knew from Bulma that she worked hard growing vegetables and sewing. He shouldn’t have yelled at her about wanting to spend Christmas with them.  

“That is all I have to show you,” Android 16 said transporting them back to Capsule Corp. Unlike the Namekian he stood there staring at Vegeta for a time as if waiting for conversation.

“What, what do you want? If that was all then leave.” Vegeta said glaring.

“Nothing, I just wondered if you wanted to…never mind.” The android frowned before fading into the shadows. ‘What the hell was that?’ Vegeta wondered. Was he expecting him to apologize for helping Cell transform into his perfect form? Yemma sure had a sense of humor if he thought that he would express such sentiments as apologies after seeing some memories.

Yeah, yeah, maybe he should have worried more about those around him, but Vegeta was a warrior and as such his actions were entirely validated in his mind. Of course that didn’t mean that he would do the same thing now, but there was no way he would apologize.

He opted to stand waiting for the next ghost instead of attempting sleep. He knew that he wouldn’t have to wait long. He wondered who his next guide would be. There was no doubt in his mind that it would be someone that he knew.

Even though he was facing the direction that the previous ghosts had come from, the voice still came from behind him. The voice was one that he would never forget and it sent chills up his spine and he froze with tension.

“Hello there Vegeta. Miss me?” came the taunting hiss of Vegeta’s nightmares.

“Frieza-“ he gasped.

“Oh, yes. Are you ready to see what your future has in store for you?” Frieza’s eyes held more spite than usual if that was possible. When Vegeta remained in shock, he continued, “Not that it matters. You do realize that if you don’t shape up you will be spending eternity with me in hell?”  

“Fuck no. I’ve already changed.”

“You know as well as I do that you are beginning to see errors in your ways. In the end it is your choice though.” Without warning the tyrant shifted them into the illusion.

Vegeta knew it was a funeral immediately. He was in a green garden with a large pavilion. Filled benches lined the roofed structure. Inspecting the faces of those gathered he was not surprised to recognize the majority of them. Bra and Trunks sat in the front row in tears. Bulma stood solemnly on a small platform. Her eyes were rimmed in red from shed tears, but right now they were strong with a sharp determination.

“We are here in memory of my husband, the prince of all Saiyans.” A faint smile passed her features. “Who is no longer with us.” Vegeta took a step back. This was his funeral?

“While you all know that he was a difficult man who committed many injustices we were also fortunate enough to know the better man he became. His rough edge may not have ever completely vanished, but even so, we were each touched by him in some way. I called him husband and was happy with him. My only regrets are that he never fully opened up to me. I now open the floor to anyone else who wishes to speak.” Bulma stepped down placing a hand on Trunks’ shoulder as he rose to take her place.

“My father valued training more than anything, so I tried my best training to please him. While people who didn’t know him might have thought that he bribed me by taking me to the park or buying me ice cream when I succeeded, I always knew that it was his way of showing affection. It wasn’t that I needed to succeed to gain his approval, it was that he wanted me to be the best person that I could be.”

Trunks returned to his seat and leaned over, exchanging whispers with his sister. She shook her head with heavy tears upon her face. When no one readily filled the space atop the platform, Goku instant transmissioned there.

“Vegeta was a real pal. He would train with me, which was fun. He kept me motivated to constantly improve, and Trunks and Goten get along so well. He was like family and never let me play down my faults.” Goku laughed. “But I think I became a better person because of it. I just wish I could have gotten him to embrace life a bit more.”

The scenery darkened to an overwhelming blackness. “Well, well Vegeta. Looks like you have friends after all. But it sure did seem that they had wanted more from you, didn’t it? I wonder how they do without you.” Frieza smiled unapologetically before the scene shifted to the Capsule Corp.  living room.

A similar tree to that of the past stood in the same spot but the decorations were more elaborate, decked with gold and silver tensile. Someone must have thought they were clever because a mock dragon ball sat instead of the usual star. Bulma’s large group of friends were all gathered around, each holding various presents on their laps.

“Bra, why don’t you start?”

“Okay.” She looked at each of her presents before spying one with _Mom_ scrolled in neat penmanship. She unwrapped it with nimble fingers revealing a plastic doll with included clothing patterns.

“I thought that you could practice your clothing designs easier this way. You wouldn’t need as much fabric and if you mess up it’s less of a waste.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Bra’s smile was noticeably fake.

“What’s wrong, dear? I thought you’d like it?”

“I do…It just makes me think of Dad. Remember the year when you guys told me that Santa wasn’t real? Right before I had asked him for a doll.”

“I’m sorry, Bra. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

“I’m not, I’m mad. I still can’t believe that he did that to me and right before Christmas. Why couldn’t he have at least waited until after Christmas? That was the worst Christmas I ever had.”

“But, Bra, you do remember that it was Trunks who actually told you he wasn’t real?” Trunks looked away.

“It doesn’t matter. If he really cared about me he would have lied, at least for a little longer.”

“I don’t ever want you saying that again. Your father loved you very much.”

“Sorry.” Bra lowered her head in shame. Tension had settled in the room, and Bulma, as the hostess, quickly attempted to move past it.

“Okay, Trunks. Why don’t you go next?”

The scene rippled again showing the group enjoying hot coco and apple danishes, presents forgotten on the floor. Bulma’s face was lit with bright laughter at something that Yamcha had said.

“Dummy, you have always been like that.”

He blushed a bit before huffing “so?” She laughed again shoving him gently on the shoulder.

“Goku, why don’t you tell us about Uub’s training? Will you be out a job anytime soon?” Chichi played it off as a mere joke, but her expression held a bit of longing.

“He’s gotten really great!” Goku explained animatedly. “He can even do kai-ken now!”

“Big deal,” Krillin said. “I can do that now too.”

“Really? Want to go spare?” Krillin’s face clenched in a mixture of surprise and fear.

Chichi suddenly yelled, “Son Goku! You will sit through this party in its entirety. You can spar tomorrow.”

“Okay Chichi,” he whined broken. Everyone else laughed at his expense. The conversation continued pleasantly with joking abound. Vegeta felt a slight twinge at the scene. They weren’t acting that different from what he was used to, but maybe that was what was bothering him. It was as if the world hadn’t changed one bit since his death. Had he been so meaningless to them? No. The last vision had obviously proved that. So, what was the problem? It couldn’t be jealousy could it? He couldn’t be jealous of these ideal pleasantries.

Frieza creepily came up behind him, wrapping his scaly tail around Vegeta’s waist, which sent an eerie reminder of his own lost tail. A chill ran up his chest. The lively scene continued to play in front of his eyes, but the sound cut out.

“My, my Vegeta. Looks like they moved on easily didn’t they? Time to decide, spend eternity with me or shape up and become closer with your friends. It is Christmas.”

“Like hell I’m spending time with you asshole. Just you watch me, but what the hell does Christmas have to do with anything?”

“Slow on the uptake aren’t you? After all this you still don’t get it? Christmas is a time to spend with family and friends, when you share _love_.” Frieza said the word “love” as if it were a bad joke.  

Then it dawned on him. All of the visions had that in common hadn’t they? He had loved his father, he loved Bulma, the Sons were trying to share love, and then now he was seeing pure love not spoiled by his sour attitude. When he really thought about it that was the problem wasn’t it? His sour attitude.

“Take me home!” He ordered pushing Frieza away from him. Frieza merely smiled before waving his arm.

The next thing Vegeta knew he was waking up in bed as usual. Bulma was curled beside him. She wore light blue panties and matching tank top. A strand of hair fell across her face which twitched every other second when she breathed out. A light coat of sweat layered her skin. He stared at her more intently than he remembered ever doing. She was breathtaking. Careful not to wake her with his movements he climbed out of the bed, got dressed and headed out shopping.

On the way he contemplated whether the visions had all been a dream. Regardless, he now realized that Christmas was a special time of year, and at least for a little while he should show his family and almost-friends that he cared.

The only present that he was sure of was Bra’s. Giving her that doll was the first thing that he would do to make up with her. As for what to do afterward, well, he’ll figure it out when the time came. Unsure what to get Bulma, who had the money to buy anything that she ever wanted (and usually did), he decided to get her some new lingerie that he would also enjoy. For Trunks he opted for a new video game. The teen tore through them like candy.

The others were harder. It wasn’t like he spent much effort getting to know them. The only things he really knew about Goku were that he liked eating and training. Remembering what Chichi had said, he decided to buy them some quality food, enough for the family.

Similarly, he bought each “friend” something that he seemed appropriate enough. Of course this did not include Yamcha. As much as he wanted to start this odd tradition of Christmas, he disliked Yamcha to the point where he could not even stomach buying him a Christmas card.

When he returned home, an eating Bulma looked up in surprise at him.

“You went shopping? But you hate shopping? What did you get?”

“Just Christmas presents.”

“What? _You_ bought Christmas presents? Of your own will?”

“Let’s just say that I did some thinking last night, and I think that I’ve been wrong about this Christmas tradition. I think I’d like to start celebrating it little by little.”

“I never thought I’d hear you say that in a million years.” She gave him a peek of approval. “Want some eggs?” She began frying eggs one after another while humming.

“Bulma?”

“Hmm?”

“The harpy called last night wanting to know if they could have Christmas with us.” He said it simply without any inflection to imply a question, yet Bulma knew better.

“I guess they must if you want them to.”

“I never said-“ A traitorous blush spread on his face.

“I know you better than that, big guy,” she said poking him in the chest with her spatula. “You wouldn’t have said anything if you were against the idea.” Vegeta decided to remain silent.

“Well then, if we’re having company we better think about what we want to eat.”

It was Christmas Eve night and Bulma had just suggested heading to bed.

“I think I’ll stay up a bit longer,” Vegeta said not turning from the window showcasing glistening snow and decorative lights. Bulma brushed his arm gently in parting.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you then.” She winked before heading upstairs. The house grew quiet around him. He breathed in feeling relaxation overtake him. He settled on the sofa.

Minutes later the quiet was disturbed by a cackling laugh of “ho, ho, ho!”

“What the hell?” Vegeta blinked as a red-clad fatman materialized into view. “Goku is that you? Why are you dressed as Santa?”

“Oh, ho, ho, ho, funny as always Vegeta. Nope, it really is I, Santa Claus.”

Vegeta’s mouth gaped. This could not be happening.

Not wanting to admit his disbelief at this turn of events he commented on his next question. “You know instant transmission?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

Santa laughed heartily. “How else do you think I manage to deliver all of the presents?”

Vegeta gave a wry smile. He had never thought of this possibility, but with instant transmission the idea of delivering presents to an entire planet didn’t seem as out there.

“I guess I owe you a thank you Red Man. I can now make up with my daughter.”

Santa laughed yet again, his face taking on a pink twinge. “While this is one reason I came, I also wanted to give you your coal.”

Vegeta’s mouth twisted into a scowl. The annoying man just laughed again. Vegeta wondered if he ever stopped laughing.

“Just kidding, you actually made it on the good list this year. I thought about giving you all the coal you should have gotten years past, but I would never be able to carry it all. I’m really here to give you what you want most, power.” The snow-dweller paused for dramatic effect. “The power of love and friendship.”

Vegeta turned to leave. “Goodnight.”

“Wait!” The old man called out. “I’m just kidding.” He clutched his belly in laughter. “But really what would you like for Christmas?”

“All I really want right now is to make up with my little girl.”

“Well, that is easy enough. I don’t even think you need my help with that one. Goodbye then, Prince of all Saiyans, ha, ha, ha. Oh, and this is for Bra.” Santa handed over a present wrapped in blue paper before zipping from the room.

Vegeta could not believe what he experienced this Christmas. It would definitely be a year that he would never forget. Resolving himself, he decided to head up to Bra’s room.

He tapped lightly on the door before stepping in.

“Bra,” he called shaking her gently.

“Yes, Daddy?” She gave him sweet eyes, eyes that no longer held malice.

“I  have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” She scrunched up her eyes in a cute manner.

“I was wrong about Santa. He does exist.”

“He does!” The little girl jumped up in excitement. She bounced on the bed a few times before composing herself. “Wait, but how do you know?”

“Because I just met him,” he explained.

“You did! Why didn’t you let me meet him?”

“Kids aren’t allowed to see him, you know that.” He smiled smugly. “So, you will have to grow up first.”

“That is so stupid!” She stomped her foot in frustration. Then her face shifted to one of triumph. “I told you so, Daddy.”

“Hmm,” he hummed.

“Not good enough, Daddy. What do you say?”

“I was wrong,” he relented.

“Yay, I beat Daddy.” She giggled before giving him a large hug.

“Night Daddy, I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said smiling.


End file.
